He lifted away. “Faith, if you consent to make love with me, you will cure me. But I don’t want anyone but you, sweetheart. I need this, in more ways than I ever thought possible.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes and something shifted inside her. All her protests fell away as if they didn’t matter, and the pressure she’d felt behind her eyes ceased.
For the first time since this morning she felt clear-headed, able to think properly. And she knew she couldn’t resist his plea. She wanted this as much as he did. He swept her back to the maelstrom building in them both and their lips met again, devouring each other’s mouths with a ravenous need.
She wanted him naked, wanted, needed to feel his skin hot on hers. Her hands went down to his waist, and she tugged his shirt free of his breeches. He didn’t seem to notice until her hands touched his bare skin, when he groaned into her mouth, an articulated sigh of need and desire. He drew back and dropped a small kiss on her mouth before sitting up, pulling the ties of his shirt undone and dragging the garment over his head. He turned back to her, and she saw the need he didn’t try to hide from her, his shaft a distinct column pressing against his breeches. She reached for him.
His hands went to her tight braids, snapping the thread holding them secure and unravelling the long strands. “I take it that’s a yes?”
“Yes,” Faith murmured. She smoothed her palms over his chest. “You know I want you. But don’t think this commits us to anything else. You could do better than me.”
He looked at her, meeting her eyes. “I couldn’t find someone better than you if I spent the next fifty years searching.”
Faith might be determined, but she wasn’t foolish. If he wanted her, there was little she could do about it. She wanted him so much. “If you feel the same in the morning, then yes, Gerard, I’ll marry you.”
He grinned. “I know you will.” Finally completing his task, he ran his fingers through her hair to loosen the cascade of waves and put his arms under her, pulling her so he could divest her of her nightgown. Then he paused. “Sweetheart, I know you have a certain reticence.” The revulsion her husband had instilled in her. “If you don’t want to, I can wait.”
He couldn’t. He needed this. But more than that, she needed him. The thought of taking him into her body held no fear for her, only eager anticipation. She’d have to show him.
When this change happened she wasn’t sure. It was to do with her trust in him, as she’d trusted no other man before. He’d proved to her over and over again, put her before himself. Because of that she knew he’d never hurt or scare her. He’d wait for her, even stop if she wanted him to.
Faith wore one of her heavier, more serviceable nightgowns tonight. She undid the buttons at the cuffs and pulled the garment up her body and over her head. When she emerged, shaking the hair out of her eyes, she sat and waited while he reacquainted himself with her body, this time with a purpose he hadn’t allowed himself before.
She felt no shame, only pleasure that she could rouse the glow of desire in his eyes. His breath quickened, his powerful chest heaving as if he’d run several miles before coming to her bed.
“Faith, when I see you like this I know I’ll want you more and more each day.” He sat and gazed at her until she flushed, then he laughed, the sound full and rich, and held out his arms. “Come here, my sweet. Let’s discover how good we are together.”
Smiling, she went to him, and his arms closed around her. She lifted her head. “This is for you, Gerard.” She pulled him closer and his lips descended to hers.
Just before they met, he murmured, “You. It’s you I want.”
Their lips touched in a kiss. Slowly he leaned her back and she yielded, sinking into the soft feather mattress. He followed her down, his lips never leaving hers until she lay full length beneath him. He drew back, smiling. “Exactly where I want you.”
He began a voyage of exploration, his hands moving slowly over her, making her feel deliciously wanton. “I want to remember this, our first time together, forever.” He bent his head to kiss the side of her neck, and kissed it again when she flinched. Her skin was more sensitive than she could ever remember, responding to his every kiss and caress with a yearning she didn’t know she could feel before now. Her body seemed to cry out for him.
He indulged her, caressing gently, smoothing over the plump swells of her breasts until he reached her nipples, already hardened into stiff peaks. He bent and touched his tongue to the very tips, and took a deep, savouring breath before opening his mouth to suck the nipple into it. He pulled hard, and she moved beneath him, arching up to join her body to his, get as close as she could.
She met cloth. Not enough. She wanted him as naked as she was. His erection peaked the fabric under her hand when she reached for the buttons of his breeches. He drew back and breathed hot air on to her nipple, reclaiming it, sending shivers of anticipation and desire through her. With shaking fingers she undid the buttons. Six of them, three each side. A veritable mountain of buttons.
When she pushed the fabric from his hips, snagging his underwear in eager fingers, he paused long enough in his ministrations to help her. Leaning up, he pushed the unneeded garments down his legs, kicking them off his feet. Faith heard the thump when they fell to the floor, but Gerard didn’t take any notice. With a sound of appreciation, a low hum deep in his throat, he returned to her breasts, sliding his hands down her sides, curling them under her bottom.
“So soft,” he murmured, kissing around one nipple. “So pretty.”
Faith laughed a little from sheer joy and parted her legs for him. He returned to her mouth, dropping kisses on her lips while he caressed the round, soft flesh of her buttocks, slowly working his way to her most intimate secrets.
She gasped when his long fingers touched her opening from behind, and he groaned, closing his eyes on the sensation. “You want me.” She felt his breath warm on her mouth.
“Yes, I want you. You made me want you.”
His erection nudged her thigh, easing between, insinuating into the cleft, now wet for him, ready to welcome him home. When he reached the opening, he lifted his head and stared into her eyes. “Now, love. A different world. Let’s go there together.”
He thrust. At first gentle, making sure she could accept him, then with more purpose, pushing steadily until he was sheathed completely inside her.
Faith arched her back and opened her mouth on a silent cry. He was embedded so deep. She hadn’t thought she had that much inside her to take him so fully. Yet it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. When he drew back and drove in again, she cried out, surging up to take him.
He slid his hands back under her, supporting her, lifting her to him. “Yes, love, that’s it, oh God!”
His forehead, sheened with sweat, dropped to her neck, and he kissed her, open mouthed and lascivious, leaving a red mark of desire on her skin. Faith caught her breath on the next thrust, so deep, so close, and without conscious thought she opened to him. Mind, heart, everything she had she gave to his keeping.
He took it, accepted it, and opened to her.
They were one. When he thrust, she felt his need, his questing, mind and body, to reach the heart of her, and he felt her reaction, contracting around him, gripping him so tightly she never wanted him to leave her.
Their emotions matched, surged and receded, built to a peak. Faith strained against him, felt him pull her closer, to become a part of him, and she cried out long and loud as the waves rose to a peak and crashed her up to a new world of sensation. Her climax came like nothing she’d felt before, every part of her rushing to meet him.
Gerard threw his head back and roared when his climax surged through him, intensifying her feminine response to such a level she felt she might never recover. She had no doubt that everyone in the house must have heard his cry.
Faith didn’t care, and Gerard cared even less. All that mattered was this, their joining. It would be worth dying to experience this.
Bu
t Faith didn’t die. Gerard rolled to the side, his hands gripping her close, still joined with her. She curled one leg over his, feeling the scratch of body hair on her sensitive inner thigh, and burrowed close to him. She felt the touch of his lips on her hair, and lifted her head to meet his lips in a fervent kiss, passionate and sated, wet and long.
He lifted his head when they heard the hammering on his door and a dull sound from outside, which Faith gradually realized was the duke’s voice. “What is going on in there? Come out this instant and explain matters to me! Ellesmere!”
He chuckled, and Faith smiled shakily. “That was wonderful,” he murmured. “But don’t think you can get away that easily. I’ve prepared for a siege.”
He lifted away and Faith felt bereft. Gerard glanced back at her and blew her a kiss before grabbing his robe from a chair and belting it around his waist. Faith hastily tugged the tumbled covers around her naked body before Gerard opened the door.
His father didn’t give him a chance to speak, and when Faith caught a glance of other people outside the door, she realized why. They must have roused more than the family.
Once the duke entered the chamber, Gerard closed the door behind him. Boscobel’s furious gaze was riveted on Faith, sitting in Gerard’s bed amongst the tumbled bedclothes, her hair a riotous dark cloud, tangled curls falling over her shoulders to the crisp, white sheets covering her breasts. If she fiddled with her appearance, it would demonstrate vulnerability to the duke, so she kept absolutely still and met his accusatory stare.
He looked away, towards his son who’d had time to push his hair away from his face. Gerard had long, straight hair, easier to control than Faith’s. She felt a pang of jealously, and then he was in her mind. I love your hair. I wouldn’t have it any different.
She exchanged a glance with Gerard. He wore a gorgeous dressing gown, all red and gold, that didn’t swamp his belligerence, but where the duke was tall and rangy, Gerard was taller and bulkier.
Boscobel stood, legs apart, arms akimbo and glared at his son. “What is the meaning of this? I’ve warned you about this, Ellesmere. I will not permit it.”
“I’ve abducted her,” Gerard replied, his voice as soft as his father’s was harsh. “If you do not wish us to live in sin, you will bring a cleric and a special licence. We’ll be waiting. Here.”
“I shall have you deprived of food.” The duke sputtered his words. “How dare you defy me, sir?”
Boscobel glanced at Faith and when she turned her head, a sharp pain lanced through it, but when she broke eye contact it was gone, as though an invisible barrier deflected the blow.
Gerard smiled grimly. “I do not defy you, sir. You wished me to find a bride. I’ve found one. You wish me to provide heirs for you. I’m doing my best.” He glanced to the bed again, bathing Faith in warmth. Don’t worry.
I’m not. Now she’d made her decision everything seemed easy. She would stay with him. Mistress or wife, it didn’t matter. He would help her care for George if his father threw them out, hide him if they had to. She would never be alone again. It seemed all so easy with him here, reassuring her with his presence.
The duke fell silent, his gaze going from his son to his chosen bride and back again. Faith saw no softening of his sharp eyes, no sense of joy for his son. Gerard didn’t seem surprised, but waited for his father to respond.
“Very well,” the duke said, his mouth closing on the last word like a trap. “I’ll make the arrangements. You don’t have to make such a spectacle of yourself.”
“I’m not letting Faith out of my sight until my ring is on her finger,” Gerard said quietly. Faith’s insides turned to jelly and that headache threatened to burgeon once more. She couldn’t stay with him all that time. She couldn’t do with him what she had just done, not again—
He interrupted her rising panic. Yes, you can.
Faith’s panic died within her. It had been a quick response, easily quelled, but he had been there and seen it. Yes, I can.
She caught him looking at her, his expression openly tender. “I will care for her until you bring the necessary items, sir. My man has instructions to bring meals to the drawing room next door. I would appreciate it if her things are brought to the room set aside for my countess, and Cerisot sent for. I want Faith’s first appearance in society as my wife to be perfect.”
The duke grunted. “Everyone in London will know by morning. You’ve forced my hand, my son, but don’t think I’ll rejoice at it.” With an impatient gesture he indicated the room, their state of undress and their obvious intimacy. “We must be bold to brush through this.”
Gerard shrugged. “Tell them the truth, sir, that we are to be married and I’ve anticipated the ceremony by a day or two. Anything else will lead to gossip, and I won’t have Faith subjected to that.”
“If there is nothing I can say to dissuade you, you may be assured I will do everything I can.” He would, because any other course would weaken his position in society. If Boscobel couldn’t manage his own son, they’d say, then he’s probably unreliable in other matters. He had to go along with this.
“It had better be soon.”
“If I can manage it, it will be tomorrow.” The duke’s attention went to Faith again and he sighed soulfully, although his eyes remained hard. “I had hoped for a great heiress for you, my son. I was negotiating with Manningtree for you.”
Gerard snorted. “I know, but that horse-faced daughter of his? No, I thank you, sir. I don’t need an heiress, if that’s the price I have to pay.” He glanced towards Faith. Without any communication, she could tell from the gleam in his eyes what he was thinking. She sat straighter and nearly lost the sheet, but clutched it back just in time.
The duke sighed dramatically. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you into a less rash course of action?”
Gerard shook his head, smiling. “Neither you nor anyone else is going to spirit her away. She’s mine now. I’ve laid my claim to her.”
“Must you sound quite so primitive?”
Gerard laughed. “It doesn’t matter. It will be all around town tomorrow, whatever we do.”
Boscobel turned to go. “At least I’ll get my heir.”
“Thank you, Father.” Gerard murmured the words, but the duke’s shoulders straightened.
“I’ll do my best not to disgrace you, sir,” Faith added.
The duke left the room without another word.
Gerard locked the door behind his father and undid the sash of his robe while he was crossing the room. He climbed on to the bed and tugged at the sheet. “Let it go.”
Faith obeyed, drowning in the desire in his eyes. He let his gaze drop, and slowly surveyed her. “Mine,” he said, with a deep, satisfied smile. He touched her breast, just above the nipple. The sight of his strong hand on her breast made her dizzy with delight. “I need to make you blush more often. It’s a delicious colour. Makes me want to kiss you…” He leaned forward and touched his mouth to the spot where his finger had been. “…all over.”
His breath heated her skin. Before he could whirl her back into the storm, she drew back, trying to regain some kind of control over her wayward senses. He followed her, pushing her down into the softness of his mattress. “We should talk,” she managed.
“Why? It’s all settled.” He lifted his head, pushing himself with his elbows. “Unless you’re having second thoughts. I won’t force you. I’ll move everything in my path to have you, but if you don’t want this, I’ll make it right, somehow.”
It made her feel better, although she still doubted his decision, her mind whirling with the suddenness of events. Not just this, not today, but the knowledge of what he was, what he could do. “I don’t think we should do this.”
He regarded her closely. “We do have to talk, don’t we? But can it wait?”
His eyes echoed the wicked smile curving his lips. “Now, where were we?” he said, his voice a soft, low purr. “Ah, yes.”
He pressed a kiss to her n
ipple, opening his mouth to caress the sensitive tip with his tongue. At the sight, at the way his kiss sent waves of need crashing through her again, Faith was lost. Gasping at the sensations he brought to her, she reached out for him, but he had moved, caressing and kissing down her body. He gripped her waist, kissed her navel and moved lower. Faith knew what he was about, but this time she doubted she’d survive the experience.
His tongue reached her first, a teasing touch, making her gasp and cry his name, then he covered her with his mouth, delivering a deep, intimate kiss, sucking and licking. She felt him in her mind and opened to him immediately, sharing the pleasure. He took their minds deep, where nobody but them could communicate, into a part of his mind she felt was new and untouched. Unsure if he’d learned the skill or it had just come to him instinctively, she was nevertheless glad that nobody else but the two of them would experience this wonder.
When he curved his tongue around the bead of flesh at the top of her cleft, a tingle aroused every nerve she possessed. She heard his chuckle and his breath warmed her. He returned to his task and brought his fingers into play. When he penetrated her with one finger, she clasped him, her muscles contracting around him. She felt him in her mind, encouraging her, sharing her pleasure. He knew what to do now, and he did it without mercy.
It was so easy to become accustomed to the sharing, as though it was always meant to be. Perhaps it was. She heard the words directly in her mind, while his tongue remained busy below. Perhaps you were always meant to be my salvation. Sweetheart, you taste so good. I’ll never get enough of you. Give me more, get wet for me, feed my thirst for you. Faith cried out, felt his fingers deep within her, her peak coming soon, rising quickly.
Before she could climax, he withdrew, came to her and thrust deep inside her. She clutched him tight, feeling the sweat slippery on his back. Her legs seemed to act of their own accord, lifting to clasp his waist, pull him closer. She climaxed.
Strong waves coursed through her with each contraction, each time she closed around him. His moans echoed through her mind, his forceful drives reaching so far inside her he became a part of her. Dimly she felt his hair stroke against her cheek as he turned his head, his lips seeking hers.
Lightning Unbound: Even Gods Fall in Love, Book 1 Page 16
